


5 times he told her he loved her

by maketea



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, pre-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: and the one time she told him, instead.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 26
Kudos: 223





	5 times he told her he loved her

> _ i. _

They always patrolled on the ground when it rained — the lesson of slippery tiles and sprinting superheroes was, to put it simply, unforgettable. (The short story? Chat Noir once stood up too quick and skidded off the edge. When Ladybug went to catch him, her foot lost grip, and down she went, too). Though they couldn’t oversee the city lights, they could be a part of them, instead.

She walked a little ahead, on top of a knee-height brick wall beside him, pigtails limp and wet while she spun her yo-yo idly. Times like these — though it probably would’ve been easier for Chat Noir to count times  _ not _ like these — he wished they knew each other as civilians. He could have taken off his raincoat, if he were wearing one, and put it over her shivering shoulders, if she had been shivering. But the supersuit didn’t need a coat, nor let them shiver, so his chivalry manifested in following her directions, standing behind her, settling for watching water droplets skim down her back.

“I love you,” he said suddenly.

Her yo-yo stopped. Ladybug turned, stunned.

He regretted it immediately.

Chat Noir didn’t take it back — it was true, after all, his timing was just poor. They stood there, in the rain, staring at one another. Her yo-yo hung as limp from her hand as her pigtails did from her head.

Then, distantly, a crash. They both snapped their heads in its direction, the tension snapping with them.

“We’d better go check that out,” Ladybug said. She threw her yo-yo up to a chimney, and flew up to the rooftop. She left him sprayed with rainwater.

> _ ii. _

He was happy. Over the very moon they sat underneath, shining on her loose hair and the silk ribbons left lying between them on their rooftop.

It wasn’t love, which she made clear, but it was something, and something, to Chat Noir — something where Ladybug would treat him to the taste of her sweet lip gloss and even sweeter  _ her _ — was better than nothing. Better than everything he’d ever had.

Though it wasn’t love. He had to remember that.

Ladybug pulled her knees in a little more, legs still to the side, and picked at the last chocolate in the box she had brought up to share. Pulled off the wrapper. Unravelled the foil. Popped it into her mouth and reached up to brush the crumbs from her lips.

He leaned in, and kissed the sweetness off her. She exclaimed, but let him do it anyway.

“I love you,” he said without thinking.

Ladybug’s mouth dropped open.

Chat Noir jerked back. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, it slipped out, I didn’t mean to—”

“Chat Noir.” Ladybug put a hand on top of his. Gentle and grounding, rescuing him from that moon he was stranded atop and bringing him back down with her. “Don’t apologise for something like that. It’s okay.”

He smiled. And he knew it was okay.

> _ iii. _

Ladybug retreated behind the chimney. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“No way.” Chat Noir tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Of course you can. You always can.”

Trembling, she looked from the lucky-charmed cardboard box in her hands, back up to him. “Not this time.”

Hawk Moth only ever emerged from his lair when something more than just a black butterfly appeared up his sleeve. It was never easy, and that day was certainly no exception. Ladybug’s earrings flashed vehemently, and the sound drew Hawk Moth towards them on the rooftop, like a dog to the odour of fresh meat. His footsteps shook the shingles they stood upon, shadow swelling against what they could see of the tiles from behind the chimney.

But they’d find a way out. They always did.

“My Lady,” Chat Noir said softly. “I love you. You can do this.”

Ladybug looked up at him tearily. Then, swallowing, she set her mouth into a firm line. “Okay.”

> _ iv. _

They wandered around the rooftop in a clumsy waltz. Ladybug was laughing, brushing her loose hair (she kept it like that whenever they were alone together) away from her face as they swayed to a piano recital of Shostakovich from the restaurant across the street. Hand clasping his, the other on his shoulder with her elbow bent artfully, Ladybug let Chat Noir lead her around the shingles with the most dramatic of steps.

“You’re a  _ magnificent  _ dancer, Monsieur,” she said in her fanciest French.

“The least I could be for a waltz with such a fair lady,” he responded in turn. 

Chat Noir twirled her. Ladybug’s hair billowed out like a dark curtain. While she giggled, he dipped her, and she tried her hardest to keep her mouth clamped shut into a polite smile.

But she burst into laughter, tipping her head back to give him a view of her suit’s black turtleneck, and the moonlight against her collarbone.

Ladybug brought her head back up, just in time to hear him say, “I love you.”

She flushed, and in lieu of a reply, kissed him. 

> _ v. _

“Are you sure you don’t want to start going home. kitty?” Ladybug asked.

They were under a willow tree, at the edge of a lake. If Chat Noir opened his eyes — which he wouldn’t, because he couldn’t (resting his head on Ladybug’s thighs was a deadly narcotic) — he would see just how beautiful the weeping branches looked under the moonlight, and how it all inevitably paled in comparison to his lady gazing down at him while she stroked his hair.

He turned so his face was pressed against the softness of her belly. “Nope. You’re warm.”

“Home is warmer,” she rebuked, tracing his browline.

Luckily, he was sleepy enough to pretend he couldn’t respond.

“You look so tired.” Ladybug’s loving hand moved from his face to his back. “You can’t fall asleep out here.”

“I want to fall asleep with you.”

She gasped, and her fingers stuttered on his suit. He didn’t have to look up to read her shock, nor to read how she loved his words — she let out a gust of breath through her nose, and continued stroking his back.

“I love you,” Chat Noir said on her stomach, “let’s stay together a little longer.”

> _ and: _

As he vaulted from his window, Chat Noir looked over Paris. The roads had been shovelled, car windows scraped, and the pavements were peppered with footprints and snow angels — little snow angels next to bigger ones, prints of formal loafers next to those of children's wellington boots. 

But the rooftops? They remained untouched. Stretches of white and white and white, soft, and perhaps an inch thick. He'd never seen snow like that before his first winter patrol with the Miraculous. The view had to be one of his favourite things about being a superhero.

Though he wouldn't have said the snow was his favourite view.

He took a seat at the top of Françoise Dupont, facing the Eiffel Tower, and outstretched his palm to catch a few snowflakes while he waited for her.

She arrived as a sound rather than a sight — of squashed snow and little out-of-breath sighs as she ran up to him, before he turned around. Her hands were behind her back, and she smiled at him coyly, snowflakes caught in her hair like glitter.

“Before I do this,” Ladybug said, “I want you to know that I love you.”

Her breaths misted in the air as she leaned into the stillness. The still wind. The still rooftop. The still Chat Noir, who stood, frozen, watching her lashes flutter and displace their collection of snowflakes.

Then she shoved a handful of snow into his face.

Chat Noir spluttered and wiped at his cheeks. He opened his eyes only to see her running towards the Eiffel Tower.

It didn’t hit him until she produced her yo-yo, threw it at one of the railings, and swung herself over, her laughter bold and proud and ringing around paris.

“H-hey, wait!” he cried. “My Lady!”

Before he left, he saved her a snowball the size of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: [maketca](https://twitter.com/maketca)  
> tumblr: [rosekasa](https://rosekasa.tumblr.com/)


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